Full Meta Alchemist
by Cap'nHoozits
Summary: What does the cast of FMA do to make ends meet once the show is over? Originally posted on Livejournal FMA Fic Contest. Meta!fic. Sort of a sequel to Arm Candy
1. Danish

**So I'm posting these silly things strictly for fun, pulling them from the late lamented FMA Fic Contest on Livejournal.**

 **Danish (from the prompt "Bluberries")**

* * *

Solf dropped into one of the bistro chairs and considered the sultry brunette across the table. "Time on your hands?"

Lust regarded him cooly over the top of her book. "I could ask you the same thing. Work's drying up as much for you as it is for me, sweetheart."

Solf grimaced. "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right."

Lust tossed her book on the table with frustrated roughness. "You'd think they'd make another damn movie or something!"

"We weren't in the last one," Solf remarked with a dismissive shrug. "The golden boys were, of course, and Five-Alarm-Sparky," he sneered, "but not us."

"It was mid-canon!" Lust snapped. "They could've squeezed us in!" She picked up her blueberry danish and frowned at it.

"Something wrong with it?"

"No," Lust replied. "I'm wondering how hard these are to make."

"So you never have to leave the house?" Solf said with a smirk.

She glared at him. "No. I was thinking of opening up a bakery."

Solf stared at her. "A bakery? Are you shitting me?"

"As much as I'd like to say I can afford to stand around and look pretty," Lust shot back, "there's a point where you have to be pragmatic. And I can't just go to Daddy and ask for money without a real good reason."

"At least you have somebody to ask. Your siblings don't seem to have a problem with it."

Lust's eyes narrowed a little. "I have a little more integrity than that."

"Which, admittedly, isn't saying much."

Lust ignored that. "I mean, look at this place!" She waved her danish around. "Look at all these people with their morning coffee and shit! It's a gold mine waiting to be tapped, or whatever you do with gold mines."

"Blow them up?" Solf asked hopefully.

Lust sighed. "No. Face it! Convention appearances are getting fewer and farther between."

"Ain't that the truth," Solf agreed morosely. "Well, have fun with that."

Lust lifted her shoulders, then gave him a more studied look. She reached out and smacked his arm. "Hey! Go in on it with me!"

"What?" Solf flinched, then gave a snort. "Me? Be the Pillsbury Doughboy? Get out!"

"No, seriously, Solfie!" Lust pleaded. "We make a pretty good team, don't we?"

"Huh! Off and on."

"Well…" Lust walked her fingers across the table and up his sleeve. "When it's good, it's really good!"

Solf rolled his eyes. "And when it's bad, it's horrid."

Lust huffed and stuck out her lower lip.

"Don't do that."

"Tch!" Lust waved her danish in front of his face. "Don't you want to make delectable pastries like this? Don't you want to make people happy?"

"No."

"Blooooberreee…" Lust sang softly. "You love blooooberreeee…"

Solf waved the pastry away from his face, trying not to grin. "Stop that."

Lust smiled seductively, knowing she how easily she could get under his skin. "You _know_ you want to! What've you got to lose?"

"My life savings and my dignity."

Lust leaned forward, giving Solf an exclusive view of her cleavage. "I'll let you lick the icing bowl," she said in a husky purr.

"Oh, honey…" Solf groaned, weakening.

Lust chuckled and took a bite out of her danish. "That's my little doughboy."

Solf rolled his eyes. "Don't talk with your mouth full."


	2. The Fun in Dysfunction

**The Fun In Dysfunction**

* * *

Solf did not like visiting Lust's family. Family, in this case, was a relative term (ha ha yeah whatever). It was a little unclear just how these people were related. They gave Solf the creeps.

Case in point. Before Lust even put her hand on the knob, the front door swung open. Pride stood there, all three and a half feet of him, in baggy sweatpants and a wife beater, holding a can of beer in one hand. According to Lust, he was the oldest.

Pride let out a frothy belch. "Oh," he remarked, and walked away.

"Good to see you too!" Lust called after him in a less than affectionate tone. "Douch nozzle," she muttered.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Solf asked for the third time.

"Going into business for yourself is always a gamble, sweetie."

"Can I take that for a no?"

"Take it for a qualified stop asking me," Lust tossed over her shoulder.

They stepped into the elegantly appointed living room. Despite its inhabitants, this house was pretty swank. Big Daddy had taken up acting as a sideline, having already been bucks up the wazoo. "Is Daddy here?" Lust bellowed out, presumably to anyone who might reply.

"He's in his office," a voice called back from somewhere.

Lust took a sharp right at the hallway. They passed a den that emitted some loud first person shooter noises and some cussing. Sounded like Envy. Solf neglected to say hello.

They stopped at a closed door and Lust knocked on it.

"What?" a gruff voice barked from within.

"It's me, Daddy," Lust called back in her butter-melting voice.

"It's me, Daddy," Envy mocked in a simpering voice from the other room.

The gruff voice went all sweet. "Oh! Come on in, sugar!"

Envy made retching noises. Lust ignored him and opened the office door, pulling Solf in behind her.

Big Daddy stood up from behind a massive oak desk. This was a real man cave, complete with a large freestanding globe that opened up to reveal a liquor cabinet. Big Daddy stepped around his desk and took Lust's extended hands. He pulled her closer and kissed her on the lips. Solf repressed a shudder.

"How nice of you to visit me, cupcake!" Big Daddy used his narrator voice. He held Lust out at arm's length. "What do you want?"

Lust dimpled and waved Solf into one of the two chairs in front of the desk. "Solfie and I want to start a business!" she announced.

The old man stroked his beard and looked at them both in turn as he leaned against the edge of his desk. "What sort of business?"

Solf kept quiet. Lust had told him to let her do the talking. "We want to open one of those places that serve coffee and pastries and stuff!" Lust explained brightly.

Big Daddy looked surprised and even a little relieved. "Oh!" He nodded. "Okay. Good."

"What did you think we were going to do?" Solf had to ask.

Big Daddy gave him a mild _what are you doing here_ look but answered anyway. "Excuse me for being concerned. Wrath was trying to get me to go in on some shady stuff."

Lust gave a laugh. "Like you've never done shady before?"

How Big Daddy had made all his money was as much a mystery as where these kids came from. Solf knew better than to ask.

"Anyway," Big Daddy went on. "I hope you two know what you're doing. I mean, there are coffee places everywhere you spit." He went to sit back in his chair behind the desk. He steepled his fingers and smiled thinly. "I'm guessing that's why they turned you down at the bank."

Lust stirred in her chair and Solf slumped a little in his. The loan manager at Bank's Bank was not impressed with them.

"They failed to recognize our inner potential," Lust sniffed.

"They probably wouldn't take her boobs as collateral," Envy said from the doorway.

Lust twisted around in her chair. "Eat shit and die, loser!" she snarled. She turned back to her father, fuming. "Daddy, make him go away!"

Big Daddy sighed. "Envy, don't you have…I don't know…something to do?"

Envy folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Are you gonna give her money?"

Lust rolled her eyes.

"I asked you for fifty bucks the other day," Envy whined.

Big Daddy rubbed his forehead. "You wanted to buy another video game. I told you to get a job."

"Why can't you tell her that?" Envy pointed at the back of Lust's head. Then he pointed at Solf. "Why can't she get money from her boyfriend?"

"He is not my boyfriend!" Lust retorted. "He's my business partner!"

"Oh, yeah?" Envy leered. He started making vigorous hip thrusting movements. "I saw you two getting down to business at the back table at—"

Lust leaped out of her chair exuding enough murderous intent to strip the stain off the dark wood paneling that decorated Big Daddy's office. Envy let out a yelp and scampered back down the hallway.

"Lust, honey, sit down!" Big Daddy ordered.

She huffed indignantly and dropped back into her chair. Solf just leaned his head on his hand and wished he was someplace else.

He heard Big Daddy mutter under his breath, then say, "Okay, can we continue this conversation like adults?"

"That would be awesome," Solf remarked.

Big Daddy regarded him darkly for a moment before turning back to Lust. "How much do you need?"

Lust perked up. "Twenty thousand!"

Big Daddy raised an eyebrow. "You've actually looked into this? You've created a business plan? You've done a market analysis?"

"Of course we have!" Lust lied flawlessly. "I went online and everything!"

Big Daddy drummed his fingers on the top of his desk for a moment. Then he opened up a drawer and took out a checkbook. "I expect a substantial return on my investment."

Lust giggled. "You can have all the coffee and blintzes you can handle!"

Big Daddy smiled indulgently. "I mean, I expect to make money off of this venture of yours, one way or another." His smile went a little predatory when he shifted it over to Solf. "Equivalent exchange, you know."

Solf swallowed. _I'm gonna lose my ass_.


	3. Master Of The Game

**Master Of The Game**

* * *

When his mind took short pauses from reeling, Solf vaguely recalled having let himself get talked into this. At the time, he was bored. He was unemployed. He was at that low ebb when the warm blush of a really good gig finally began to cool and he was susceptible to stupid ideas like this, especially from his on-again-off-again girlfriend ("friends" might be pushing it). Now he was stuck tighter than a really stuck tight thing and no amount of WD-40 or KY jelly was going to get him out of it.

The scary part was that the place was actually up and running. It happened virtually overnight. One day it was a vacant store. The next day (practically) it was a hip coffee and pastry hangout. Lust got all squealy and clapped her little hands together at the grand opening, completely not listening to her father's warning to take good care of the place (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know what I mean?).

Solf knew. He was not in the family loop, but he could spot a money-laundering setup when it bit him in the ass. Every morning, Big Daddy would come into the place to check up on them and grab a cruller and a cup of South City Blend. On the house, of course, because it was his house. His house, his rules, and if anything went tits up, he would be back for blood, and it wouldn't be his darling daughter's.

A staff appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Lust's brother, Greed, and his cohorts. Of all Lust's siblings, Greed was the least irritating and/or creepy, which didn't really count for much when he cheerfully advised Solf to "just go with it." So Solf went with it. The display cases filled up with treats and a big brass espresso machine hissed away. All Solf had to do was greet customers and be nice to them, something that went completely contrary to his nature.

Lust was nice to customers. A bit too nice. She flirted with just about everything that walked through the door that was of legal age. On a morning not too long after their grand opening, she was doing her best to distract both Miles and that Buccaneer guy from their intent to buy pastries and perhaps tempt them into something sweeter. The two had returned to their previous profession of law enforcement, so maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be getting overly familiar when who knew what was going on in the back because "making the doughnuts" covered a lot of ground.

Plus, hello, Solf was sitting right there. He was under the impression that they were in the "on again" phase of their relationship. This, of course, was nothing new. If she was trying to make him compete just to stir things up he would not oblige. So he leaned on the other end of the pastry counter, flipping through an industry magazine and pretending not to notice or sulk. Until he turned the page and stared at the article.

"Are you kidding me?" he blurted out to no one in particular. "Are you effing kidding me?"

Lust rolled her eyes and smiled at the two officers of the law. "'Scuse me a second." She wrinkled her cute little nose at them. "Don't go away!"

She slid down the counter. "What are you sniveling about?" she demanded in a hiss.

Solf held up the magazine. "Look at this! Some new medieval epic thing!" He shoved the magazine into Lust's hands and stabbed at one of the photos. "That could've been me!"

"Huh. _The Heroic Legend or Arslan_." Lust tilted her head and considered the photo, a smile growing on her lips. "Ooh. He's hot. I dunno, Solf. I mean, you've got a certain charm, but I don't think you quite stack up for a role like this. Besides, you're scared of horses, aren't you?"

"No!" Solf snatched the magazine out of her hands. He scowled at the photo. "I could totally pull off that look!"

"Yeah, if you worked out for, like, half a year, drank a lot of protein shakes. It's too late now, of course." Lust waved her hand and went back to her swole patrol.

Solf, meantime, went into uber sulk. He closed the magazine and tossed it on the counter. His agent would hear about this. Sure he could work out, but he was of the opinion that those who bulked up topside did so to compensate for deficiencies elsewhere.

"So long, boys!" Lust sang out as two of Amestris' finest (finest what?) left with a bag of crullers and probably Lust's phone number. Before sliding the back of the case closed, she snagged an old fashioned and took a bite out of it.

"Should you be scarfing up the merchandise?" Solf asked her petulantly.

Lust shrugged. "Not like it matters." She held the doughnut out to him. "Come on. Stop being a poopyface and take a bite."

"No, thanks."

Lust stuck her tongue out. "Geez, Solfie. Jealous much?"

"Me? Jealous? Don't make me laugh."

"Oh, I could make you laugh," Lust purred. "I know where all your ticklish spots are."

He couldn't argue with that. That was very true. He was almost tempted to let her try and find one or two of them right now except that she called him a poopyface and also another customer walked in. And it _had_ to be the other Ishvalan guy, minus the fake latex scar.

Lust squealed and turned her back on Solf. Again. "Oh, _hi_! It's been a while!" She leaned her bosom across the top of the pastry case. "Watcha been up to lately?"

The Ishvalan gave one of those self-deprecating smiles people use that actually mean they're so full of themselves it's a wonder they don't bust a seam. "Oh, well, you know. This and that."

"Oh, yeah?" Lust prompted invitingly. "What kind of this and that?"

The Ishvalan shrugged modestly. "I've been doing some modelling."

"What," Solf put in. "You mean, like, clay?"

Lust shot him a withering look and turned back to the Ishvalan with an encouraging smile. "Designer suits? Cologne?"

"Uh…underwear, actually."

Lust lit up like a Xingese dragon festival. "No _shit_?" She peered over the counter. "Got your portfolio with you?"

The Ishvalan chuckled. "No. But there are probably some ads in a lot of magazines this month."

Lust didn't have to be told twice. She scampered over to Solf and grabbed the magazine out of his hands.

"Hey, I was reading that!"

"Grow up, Solf! I'll give it right back." Lust carried the magazine back and laid it on the counter, flipping quickly through the pages. "Are you sure it's— _oooh_!" Her voice went up a couple of octaves. "There you are!"

Solf knew he was going to regret this. He usually skipped the first several pages of magazines because they were all ads. This was just the sort of thing he was trying to avoid, but now he had to look. He sidled up and peeked over Lust's shoulder. So there was Ishvalan Guy, spread out on some sort of lounge thing, his unbuttoned shirt slipping off one shoulder to show off shiny, moist, ripped abs, a smoldering look cast somewhere to one side, and his legs spread to show off his amply filled man-kini.

Solf could have just walked away, but when you're just so done with everything, you might as well put a cherry on top of it.

"Oooh!" he sneered loudly. "I must be the UPS man 'cuz I've got a package for you!"

Both Lust and Ishvalan Guy glared at him, but darned if they could think of anything to say. Solf just smiled with the warm glow of a triumph won by low and unscrupulous means. No one could compete with him there.


	4. Baker's Dozen

**Baker's Dozen**

* * *

Solf squinted in the glare of the kitchen light.

"What're you doing up?" he mumbled.

Lust swallowed a bite of a maple-glazed old fashioned. "Eating," she said slowly, like Solf was an idiot and couldn't figure it out for himself.

Solf scowled as he shuffled up to the counter. He considered the open box of doughnuts, surplus from "Lusty's Nuts", the curvaceous homunculus's pet project. In reality, it was a convenient way for Big Daddy to turn dirty money into nice clean edibles and keep his favorite child occupied. Solf had gotten suckered into it before he had a chance to run like his hair was on fire.

He took a glazed jelly-filled and bit into it. "How many of those have you had?"

Lust shrugged, not taking her eyes off her magazine. "I dunno. I lost count."

Solf leaned down to see what she was reading. "You're reading a fitness magazine and scarfing down doughnuts?"

"Yeah? So?"

"Isn't that a little…I dunno…counterproductive?"

Lust sighed and considered him critically. "What makes you say that?"

"'Cuz, you know, fitness and doughnuts don't actually go together. Or are you figuring out how to work off all the extra pounds later?"

Lust pointedly took another doughnut from the box. "How long have we known each other, Solf?"

Solf had to think about that one. "Wow. Ten years? Over ten! Since '03!"

"And have you ever seen my figure be anything less than stunningly perfect?"

"Uh…honestly, no."

Lust set her chocolate frosted cake doughnut down on a napkin, delicately brushed her fingers off, then plunged them into her chest.

" _Whoa!_ " Solf yelped, jumping back. " _Geez!_ Would you freakin' _warn_ me! I _hate_ when you do that!"

"See this?" Lust demanded, pulling her skin apart and exposing the glowing red philosopher's stone.

Solf squeezed his eyes shut. "Yeah, yeah! I see it! It's your core, blah, blah, blah."

"It's also my thyroid, Solfie. I have an extremely high metabolism." Lust let her flesh reform over the gaping wound in her chest. "I can out eat Gluttony and barely gain a pound."

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes, you big baby." Lust scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I thought you were all into destruction and junk."

"Yeah, well…" Solf tossed his unfinished doughnut back in the box. Suddenly something gushing out red stuff wasn't so appetizing right now. "It's different when it's…you know…you."

Lust stared at him blankly. "What do you mean, me?"

Solf gave a little uncomfortable shrug. "I don't like to see you hurt yourself like that. I mean, you can do it to other people all you want, but—"

Lust squealed and jumped off her counter stool and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Solfie, that's so sweet! And you being sincere makes me really hot!" She grabbed the box of doughnuts. "Let's go back to bed!"

"Can't we leave the box here?"

"Nuh-uh. Love me, love my doughnuts."

Solf sighed and followed her. "Story of my life."


	5. Buttercream

**Buttercream**

* * *

Solf looked up. There was pink icing on the ceiling.

"There's pink icing on the ceiling," he remarked.

Lust lifted her head from the stainless steel island counter in the middle of the kitchen at the rear of Lusty's Nuts Purveyors of Doughnuts Coffee and Confections. Solf had argued that tacking Confections onto a sign that already said Doughnuts was redundant. Lust had slapped him.

Anyway, not only was there pink icing on the ceiling, there was pink icing in her hair, on her right cheek, and in her cleavage. In front of her was a sheet cake adorned with beautiful icing roses and leaves and a rude message delicately piped across it with yet more pink icing.

Lust blinked blearily and looked up. She giggled with the insipid mirth of the sleep-deprived. "Wow."

She laid her head back down on the counter.

Solf considered the cake and the physically impossible action that the icing message exhorted the reader to do to themselves. Then it said _Oh Yeah. Happy Birthday Dickwad_. "Is somebody paying money for this?"

Between Lust and her siblings eating everything, this enterprise ran at a loss half the time. Then Big Daddy would come around and point his beard at the spreadsheet and inquire as to why his little snookums wasn't taking good enough care of his little gifty-wifty because if she didn't he'd give it to someone else to run who could tell their ass from a doughnut hole.

So Lust got sniffy and stormed out. That was a couple of days ago. One of those ugly family scenes that made Solf's skin crawl because of course she had to drag him along with.

"I'll show that ancient turd how to run a business!" she fumed.

That sounded like teaching your grandmother how to crochet an afghan, but Solf didn't say so out loud.

Still…

"Lust, honey," Solf said, "I gotta say, those are some wicked awesome icing roses."

Lust's head sprang up. "Are they really? Do you really think so?"

"Hell, yeah. I had no idea you could do that."

Lust pointed to a laptop further down the counter. It, too, was plastered with pink icing. "I learned off youtube!"

Solf was pretty sure that laptop was now compromised. "What a century, huh?"

Lust's head was apparently too heavily weighted down with icing and profound thoughts so she laid it back down on the counter. "I was up all night."

"I wondered." The only message Solf got was a note stabbed to his pillow with a stiletto telling him to not wait up. "Although I'm thinking maybe the sentiment you wrote on there won't fly. Unless," he added on second thought, "that's the message they wanted." That was always a possibility.

"Nah." Lust yawned and cradled her head in her folded arms. "That's just for practice. It's for Wrath. It's his birthday tomorrow."

"Oh." Solf chuckled. "Well, then, this is the most perfect cake I've ever seen." He pointed to the very bad word writ large in the middle, the one between _GO_ and _YOURSELF_. "Can I have that piece?"

Lust smiled sleepily. She didn't even have to look. She knew him that well. "Sure, sweetie."


End file.
